We Will Always Have Paris

Twenty-Two

"It's about Harry" Emilie's broken voice crackled over Michael's phone. No one heard it but me, yet the party seemed to dim suddenly and the happiness in Michael's eyes faded.
"It's about Gerald isn't it?" he shook his head, "Dammit Marilyn! There are other people in the world." He threw the glass tumbler down. It shattered, the shards reflecting the light across the ceiling.
"It's about Harry." I said softly
"Oh, because that's so much better!" He spun around then turned over his shoulder, "I'm not taking you back to Boulder until tomorrow."
"That's cool. I'll take her." Raya interrupted, surprising Cole who was, after all, the only person left standing with Raya and I.
"You don't have a car." Cole said
"That's okay, I'll take yours." His keys appeared in her hand and Cole's jaw dropped, "How'd you...?"
"Don't speak." She kissed his nose and she left without even telling me to follow her. But follow I did. Once we were both in the car she turned to me, "Michael is just so rude sometimes! He means well but..."
"Yes, I know."
She glared at me, "The 'Don't speak' applied to you too." So we spent the entire drive in a thick silence. The sun set sooner each night, and the setting sun cast brilliant rays into the car. I was feeling drowsy (cars tend to make me sleepy, which is why I do not drive very much) when Raya started talking, "I never thought he and Patti would break up, they were the perfect couple. Everyone expected them to get married before college but Michael never proposed. Did you know that they've been dating since 8th grade?" before I could answer she went on, "Well times change I guess."
I nodded but kept to my silence. Raya turned on the radio then and I decided that all conversations were over. Gerald's song "I mean it" was playing. Not a song I particularly cared for but it was still his sexy voice emanating from the speakers.
"I never thought I would meet G-Eazy, let alone hang out with his girlfriend!" Raya shouted over the speakers, "What's it like? Loving him?"
"Le coeur veut ce que le coeur desire" The heart wants what the heart wants
"Hey, I'm sure that that was deeply moving and philosophical but I don't speak French so that's too bad that I'll never learn that beautiful message." She chewed her lip, no longer watching the road, "My parents were real hippies, that's why I got named after sunshine, and they were always saying real deep shit and I never understood it. Maybe that's why I'm so screwed up."
"I don't think you're screwed up."
"You don't know the half of it, Marilyn." I didn't answer and we spent the rest of the ride back in a contemplative silence, but not an uncomfortable one. When we arrived I realized something.
"If Gerald's here, he can't see me in these clothes!"
Raya shrugged as she went to the back door of Farrand, "I'm sure I've got yoga pants that'll fit your skinny ass." We went up to her room and I found myself hoping that Cessi wasn't around. The only time I had ever talked to Raya's roommate had ended disastrously. But Raya didn't go to Cessi's room, she went to a different room, on the Fifth Floor. She had the room that was at the other end of the small, creepy hallway.
"What happened to living with Cessi?"
"I couldn't stand that little Scottish fireball anymore. Or her douchebag boyfriend" When she unlocked the door, I saw her new roommate for the first time.
"You are a boy!"
"I prefer man, but yes. I have a dick. Unfortunately." This man was short, he had sandy blonde hair that was in perfect condition and brown eyes. When he looked at me, he seemed to stare down towards my feet rather than meet me eye-to-eye.
"What's your name?" I asked
"Mat, with only one T. It's fancier."
"Quite." I said with a smile.
"He's gay." Raya said unnecessarily, "He's also my best friend."
"Pleasure to meet you, monsieur."
"Et vous." He said in rapid fire French, tipping his head down as a bow. "I did not know that the lovely lady was French. All the more lovely she may be." I grinned, recognizing a famous poem that some old gay French man had wrote when he first realized which type of gender he preferred.
Raya threw me some pants and a green T-shirt. "The bathroom's over there. I expect those to be washed before I get them back." She then slammed the door shut and I changed as fast as I could. I went down to Michael's room before I went to Harry's. I left the dress, pearls and earrings on his bed and then made my way back upstairs to Emilie and Harry.
Emilie was angrily pacing outside of Harry's door. "What's going on?"
"I should ask you!?" she spun around and hugged me tightly, "At least leave a note next time! What if..." she trailed off and I let her. I didn't want to know what her "what if" was.
"What's the matter with Harry?"
"The band!!" Emilie cried, tears appearing in her eyes again, "They're breaking up!"
"Oh no." I mumbled. I did not care for One Direction anyways, although Harry seemed mostly alright, "That's terrible."
She pushed me towards the door, "Go comfort him or something! I cannot deal with it anymore." Emilie opened up the door with her key (apparently Harry was in our room) and I went in.
"Bonjour Harry."
"It's not a good day, Marilyn."
"So I've heard." I sat down next to him on the rug
"Good memories of this rug. Maybe if I hadn't left England the band wouldn't be breaking up."
"Maybe not. Then again, maybe you all would hate each other and you would not know Emilie."
That produced a small smile, "Yes, that's true." He shook his head then, "What about you? Do you regret leaving Paris?"
I thought about it. Emilie and I had been so happy together in Paris, working every day and going home to my comfortable apartment each night. I had been in love with Alain in Paris, and for how bad that relationship had been there had been a time under the Parisian skyline that it had been wonderful. But it was Gerald that I missed the most, the Gerald that I met in Paris, the Gerald who forced me to strip down and listen to his divine singing late at night. "No. I do not regret leaving Paris."
"Does Emilie?"
I began to grow wary, "I do not know. That is a question for her, not me." I narrowed my eyes at him, "Why?"
"Well I was thinking we could spend our winter in Paris, where the climate is milder than London." Harry grinned
"NO! You cannot take her with you!" panic rushed through my veins. I couldn't lose Emilie, not now. We came to America together and we would leave America together.
"Relax Marilyn. I wouldn't separate you two, one of you would kill me if I did." He hugged me then, "Thanks for making me feel better."
"Anytime Harry." He stood and made his way to the door, "Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Do not hurt her. Please."
He frowned, "I'll do my best." Then he left and I could hear the muffled voices from the other side of the door. I sat on the floor for a long time, slowly realizing that my phone was ringing. I rose and found it on my desk. I sat in my chair backwards, staring at the deepening dark. I had 32 missed calls from Gerald, and one from Michael.
I listened to Michael's first: "Hey Marilyn, it's me. I, uh, hope you're not still mad about that kiss and I also wanted to say that I'm sorry for acting like a jerk at the party. It's just that...well never mind. It doesn't matter now. I just wanted to say that I was sorry. I'll talk to you tomorrow." I smiled at his sweetness.
Rather than listen to all of Gerald's messages, I just called him back.
"Gerald?"
"Marilyn! Where the fuck have you been?" he snapped
"I was at a... I was with Emilie and Harry. I forgot my phone."
"No shit. Thanks for letting me know."
"What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Listen Frenchie, I got a show I gotta go do. I'll talk later, yah?"
"No, Gerald wait. I thought you called off the show?"
I heard someone screaming his name, some girl, and saying "More, oh G! Harder!"
"Gerald. What is going on?"
"Just doing what you did. First with Alain and then with Sammy."
"What?!" I screamed, he had said... Gerald had told me that it didn't matter what happened with Alain. And with Sammy? Nothing had happened unless... "Gerald what are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!?"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about! Did you have to hook up with Sammy? Alain was one thing but this is another. I've got beef with him!"
"What are you doing?" I asked, already fearing the answer.
"Snortin' blow off of some fan and fingering her. We've gotta try this some time!" his voice was wild, his shouts get more erratic and the fan he was with was screaming the first letter of his name.
"Besides Frenchie, tomorrow this'll be the past and it won't matter anymore!"
Screaming filled my ears, I pulled the phone away from my ear, completely unable to believe was happening on the other line. But I had to believe, there was no way he would lie about this to me.
So I did the only thing I could think of doing, "Goodbye, G." and I hung up. He didn't call me back. I waited all night. I went to class the next day but I didn't hear a word of what was being said. In my American Literature class I scrawled the lines to a poem.
Young girl, so white,
She seems to soar upon the sky
Old woman, so black,
She cannot cure the bitterness in her soul
Every day I fled farther;
Only to end up in his arms again.
To be free would be a curse
The curse of which I already wear!
How can I stay?
She desires him so, leaving my soul to rot.
As he and I lay together
It is only us.
The moment he is away from bed,
She is all there is.
Dancing fingers on his back-
Beneath the shirt my marks rest.
He is not mine,
Nor is he hers.
But I am his,
And so is she.
Young girl, so white,
Tempted by the bed.
Old woman, so black,
Destroyed by the man she lay.
By evening there was still not a word from him, so I went to Cessie's room to have a chat with her boyfriend. I knocked on her door and she opened almost immediately.
"Marilyn! What a surprise!" she ushered me in and there he was, Sammy Adams.
"Cessi, would you mind if I had a chat with your boyfriend?"
"Not at all, I'm going to go get a soda. D'ye want one?"
"No, thank you dear." Sammy said. Cessie left. I turned to him. He cleared his throat, "I'm going to assume that this is about me telling your boyfriend that we hooked up."
"Yes, that would be correct."
"I'm also going to guess that he believe me."
"Yes, he did."
"Interesting. I didn't think he would."
"Why did you do it?"
He shrugged, "He destroyed my relationship once. I had to get back at him."
"Why?"
"Because that's how the male ego works Marilyn. He hurt me a long time ago, when I was dating Devon Baldwin. I thought we were going to get married and what does he do? He steals her right out from underneath me. And now I stole you, only without the sex because I love Cessie and I couldn't do that to her."
"But you could do it to me."
He shrugged at me, "I guess so."
"G and I are over."
"Are you?"
"He was doing cocaine off of fans last night, and probably fucking them too."
"Oh, I didn't expect that. You should sit down, you're looking a little pale. Well-paler than usual."
"I feel a little pale." I sat down and hugged my arms across my chest, "Can you call him or something and tell him it didn't really happen?"
"I thought you said things were over?"
"That does not mean that the feelings are still there." He nodded slowly
"I'll see what I can do." I thanked him and left, I walked towards the fish pond where Gerald and I had spent a few chilly hours together. I stood on the bridge, the sun setting early and setting the water on fire. The trees had all lost their leave by now and the barren branches lowered my mood even more. After Alain had raped me, I had thought about killing myself. But in a hospital, that's nearly impossible to do. I was fine after Emilie and I left Paris, but now my only reason for coming to America had done unspeakable things. And I was alone again, alone with my thoughts. Death didn't seem too bad, and it wouldn't be too hard to do. I closed my eyes, wondering if the draw of eternal peace was enough to outweigh my love for life. I opened my eyes just as the last rays of sun licked the water, the chilly wind cut through my hoodie and made the water shiver. I shivered as well, and there was suddenly a warm body next to me. It was Emilie, her solid presence stopping me from doing anything unspeakable. I put my arm around her and she leaned in to me. We watched as the sunshine faded into the blackness that was a Colorado sunset.
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Gerald's POV:
"Hey my man! What's poppin'?"
"Who is this?"
"It's Sammy Adams."
"What do you want now? To ruin everything again?"
"Nah bro, to tell you that I lied."
"You what?"
"Marilyn and I never hooked up. I made it all up so that you would be pissed, just like I was when you took Devon. Only I love Cessie too much do exactly what you did."
I ended the call, a sinking, spiraling feeling sucking me under. No, no, no, no, no...
"Goodbye G" she had said, and now I knew why. I looked across the hotel room, counting limbs as I did so. 20 limbs, 5 people... only one of them was someone I knew. Steven, who had heard enough of the phone call to know that something was up. He stared at me. I stared at him, both of us realizing what we had done.
"Marilyn..." I whispered, feeling sick. How could I have done something like this without even asking her if any of it was true? Because you're no better than the first asshole that got her. That little part of my brain sneered.
I ran to the bathroom, puked up last night's horrors and cried, actually cried, for the first time in months. I cradled my sore head in my hands, knowing exactly what I had done but hoping that my memory was wrong. But it wasn't. All of those girls, one night, three lines of coke, enough anger and pain to make the Devil jealous, and this was the end result. Four naked girls and one broken heart.
"Oh Marilyn." That was all I could seem to think of, the girl with blonde hair and porcelain skin, eyes darker than night and a laugh to rival tinkling bells. I had destroyed it, destroyed it all. It was all my fault. Marilyn had never lead me to believe that she had done anything with Sammy, why did I have to go and screw with it all? I saw it then, the bag of cocaine. Enough of it to kill someone, although I had never heard of someone dying from a cocaine overdose. That didn't mean it didn't happen occasionally. This was going to be that occasion. I made eye contact with Steven just before I tipped the baggie back.
"G! NO!" it was too late, I was dumping and swallowing as much as my mouth could handle at a time. It wasn't long before I was numb. The world was slipping away...
Goodbye G, indeed.
(Author's Note: It is actually totally and completely possible to kill yourself from a cocaine overdose. Please dont try it, but it numbs the whole body via the blood system and halts nerve impulses which then in turn stops breathing, heart beats and brain activity.)